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“Hey Marie,” Forrest said nonchalantly as the front door shut behind him, a dark-stained wood a bit deeper than the interior wood panels, but gorgeously matched to the paint on the outside of the house. “Remind me of your thoughts on marriage.”
Marie looked up from the sitcom she was watching to the door where Forrest was casually shuffling off his shoes.
“Like in general or for us specifically?” She asked in an equally unbothered tone, though laced with mild curiosity. She looked back over at the tv.
“Let’s say both.”
Marie took a sip of the glass of water resting on the coffee table.
“I think it’s a system with both cultural and financial significance in our society that can be beneficial or negative depending on the situation. For us, I could go either way to be perfectly honest. It might be nice someday but I won’t cry a river over not being a bride.”
“Oh, good,” Forrest replied, digging in his coat pocket. “That’s what I thought. Here, catch.”
Marie looked back over in time to see a small black object being thrown in her direction across the couch cushions. Despite being caught off guard she swiped the object out of the air with ease.
“What the fuck is-“ she mumbled to herself, turning the item over. Her fingers found a seam in the side of the black cube, cueing her to apply pressure on either half until the sides split up and down.
Her eyes widened in shock for a split second before going half-lidded deadpan. She looked back up at Forrest.
“Are you fucking serious?” The question was phrased more like a statement, flat and certain.
Forrest cocked his head in that sort of “duh” fashion, raising his eyebrows like he was waiting for it to click for her.
“What? You said you wouldn’t mind getting married,” he said.
“So this is it? This is you proposing to me? This is what you’re going with?” She asked, turning the opening of the box to him. A gold ring nested in white satin boasting an almost obscenely large oval cut diamond glittered in the overhead light at Forrest.
“Well, would you like me to plan an elaborate public proposal?” Forrest asked indignantly.
Marie scoffed. “God, no.”
“Then yes. This is what I’m going with. You’re welcome,” Forrest smirked with a fleeting eyebrow raise.
Marie’s eyes turned back to the ring’s sparkling glittering facets as she shifted the box around.
“How much did you pay for this?” She asked, not taking her eyes off the diamond.
Forrest walked over to the couch. “That’s something you don’t need to worry about,” he said with a wave before sitting down next to her. “All that matters is that you love it, and that you want to wear it.”
“I do love it,” Marie reassured, “and I want to wear it. Which is why I want to know how much money you’re gonna lose if I misplace this thing.” She leaned over as she spoke, affectionately checking Forrest’s shoulder with her own. He smirked, pushing back on her with equal playful force.
“Relax, it’s insured,” he joked, “Besides, someone’s gotta spoil you a little to make up for the shit you went through. All the gifts you should’ve gotten throughout your life.”
“Forrest, I don’t need any spoiling,” Marie said. Their faces were inches apart.
“Well, that’s going to be a problem, because I’m the kind of guy who spoils his fiancée,” Forrest mumbled before leaning in and giving her a quick kiss. “Here, let me help you with that.”
He carefully removed the ring from its satin confines and slid it on Marie’s left ring finger.
“Look at that. Not half bad, huh?” He asked, almost rhetorically, holding the underside of her hand and tilting it back and forth.
“It’s beautiful, Forrest,” Marie agreed.
“Great. I was hoping you’d say that when I picked it out,” he replied, a smug pride in his smile. “Sooo when is the wedding?”
Marie closed her eyes and put her hands up. “Ok- let’s just- do we need to do the whole, ‘100-guest, five-tier-frilly-cake, stained-glass-cathedral, destination-in-the-South-of-France-or-Monaco or-Spain-or-wherever-the-fuck’ thing?”
Forrest shook his head. “If you don’t want to, no. We can just walk down the courthouse and sign the papers if that’s what you really want.”
Marie nodded approvingly. “Good. Good. I think I’d actually go insane if we had to do all that. I’m too old for that crap.”
“You didn’t answer my question, though,” Forrest reminded her, setting the ring box down on the coffee table. The stupid sitcom Marie was watching was still on, reflecting its colors onto the lacquered wood. “When are we actually doing this thing?”
Marie hummed.
“Y’know, honey, we moved really fast. We met in August. You finished your house in December. I moved in in February. It’s now mid-April, and we’re engaged. I don't regret it at all- everything just feels right with you- but I feel like for something like this, it should be a while. Gives us time to plan, too.”
Forrest threw an arm around Marie’s shoulders, letting her lean over into his chest. “Sounds good to me. We can wait a little bit.”
She put her cheek on his collarbone. “Are you doing anything next summer?” She asked. He chuffed.
“I think I’ll be around.”
“Good. I think it should be then. Give Henry a year of independence at college, give us some time to really think this over, you know.”
“Oh, I don’t need to think it over,” Forrest said, kicking his feet up so his heels rested on the coffee table. “It’s either you or no one.”
Marie’s cheeks warmed a little, and it wasn’t just because of Forrest’s body heat.
“But I agree. We need time. I don’t want to be the kind of person who gets married after knowing someone for eight months,” Forrest continued.
“But you’d be the kind of person who would get engaged after eight months?” Marie asked flatly.
He nodded.
“Yep. It’s just asking a question.”
That made Marie giggle. “I mean, I guess,” she agreed. “It’s amazing how casual you can be about stuff sometimes.”
Forrest nodded in agreement. “My fucks left me a long time ago, I just don’t have any more to give.”
Marie rolled her eyes playfully. “This is the man I’m marrying, everybody.”
“Don’t be like that, you know I’m perfect for you,” he teased, nuzzling his bearded jaw in her hair. “No one else could get the job done.”
Marie fell silent. That might be true now, but it certainly wasn’t always true. Forrest could feel her spirits deflate. Reaching up with the hand not around her shoulders, he gave her hair a few strokes with his thumb.
“You know he would be so happy for you, right?” Forrest said softly. “He would be so proud of you for finding love again. Don’t you think for a second you’d be betraying him. He would want this for you.”
Marie sighed a rickety sigh, clearly holding back some pretty painful emotions. She couldn’t think of the words to explain the thoughts in her brain, so she stayed silent.
Forrest leaned over again and planted another kiss on her head.
“Would it make you feel better if we went outside and visited him for a little bit?” He asked. His voice was so uncharacteristically delicate it would’ve made anyone else think he was being facetious or trying to fool someone.
Marie shook her head. “We should… let him rest,” she said eventually.
“Good point. You of all people would know how much teenagers need to sleep,” Forrest joked, trying to lighten the mood. She laughed halfheartedly, thinking about poor Henry sleeping half the day away on weekends when he didn’t have to work. She was glad he got to at least catch up now.
Marie looked back down at the glittering ring in her lap. She began to move her hand around again so the stone caught the light. It was a little difficult to be melancholy when something so beautiful and meaningful was just given to her.
“I just can’t believe it,” she rasped. “That this is happening. All of this. Here. Now. After everything.”
Forrest smiled. “Neither can I. Speaking of, you know who else isn’t going to believe this?”
Marie shifted a bit out of his embrace so she could look into his eyes.
“You didn’t tell her already, did you?” Marie asked mischievously.
Forrest shook his head. “Who should break the news? You or me?”
Marie shrugged, ticking her head. “What if we just never tell her and she only finds out when we die?”
Her joke went over extremely well.
“You’re so evil,” Forrest teased back. “But seriously.”
“You can,” she said. “The ensuing chaos will be unavoidable, and at least I can walk away from the phone if she gets too crazy. Because you know for a fact she’s going to call me.”
Forrest sighed. “Yeah, I’ll go ahead and turn her volume way down preemptively so I don’t go deaf either. She’s quite the character, especially when she’s excited, your sister is.”
Marie’s eyes nearly disappeared behind her cheeks as a knowing grin pulled at her mouth.
“And you know she’s going to be your sister, too, after this, right?”
“Sister-in-law,” Forrest corrected. “And don’t remind me. I just know she’ll try calling me ‘bro’, and that’s just weird.”
“Your best friend being excited that she’s going to become your family is weird to you?” Marie snickered.
“No, her calling me ‘bro’ is weird. I’m like, twenty years older than her. That’s a level of familiar I don’t think we’ll ever reach,” Forrest explained.
Marie tilted her head back and forth. “We’ll see about that.”
“You’re going to tell Henry, right?” Forrest asked. “Please don’t make me tell Henry too.”
Marie squeezed his bony shoulder. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I’ll tell him.”
Forrest sighed in relief.
“Oh, don’t do that,” Marie chastised. “He’s not that bad.”
Forrest blinked. “Uh, easy for you to say. He’s devoted to you. I’m just saying if I go missing, he did it. He already hates me for letting you move in with me. He finds out I’m going to be his step-father, I’m done for.”
“He does not hate you,” Marie countered. “He’s just very protective. And you being his step-father is up to him, not us. If he’s comfortable calling you that, then that’s what he’ll call you. If not, you can just be my husband and that’s ok.”
Forrest’s smile disappeared in his thick mustache. “Aw, I like the sound of that. Your husband. And you’ll be my wife. How about that?”
“Let’s not wear those out just yet,” Marie said, giving him a kiss on the cheek before standing up and using the black rectangular remote to turn the tv off. “I only just started to almost get used to ‘fiancee’.”
“Wait,” he said, standing up with her, though putting his legs down and bending his knees to get upright took a bit longer due to the stiff joints. “Did you want to celebrate tonight before I have to work? We could go out for drinks, get dinner…”
Marie rested her hand on his hip and patted his chest with the other hand.
“Keep the money. We can celebrate at home. We certainly have enough drinks, after all that expensive European wine you just bought,” she said.
“Hey, don’t judge my wines,” he warned playfully. “Not everyone can have a 1974 Chianti from Italy.”
“And I’m so glad you have hobbies,” Marie teased, her voice full of false sincerity. “But maybe now we can put them to actual use instead of just letting them fill up your cellar.”
“Oh, all right. They won’t stay good forever, I guess. But not too much though. I still have to work tonight,” he relented.
Marie gave him another kiss, this time on the lips. “I love you,” she purred. “And your wine.”
He leaned forward, taking her chin and tilting it that teeny tiny smidge upward before kissing her back. “I love you, too. And I can’t wait to marry you even if you make fun of my wine collection sometimes, which should be unforgivable. But I make an exception because you’re so pretty.”
“How noble,” Marie jeered as she walked over to the kitchen. “You want your favorite? I went to the store today.”
“You really know how to treat a man.”
Marie looked back over her shoulder with a sly, half-lidded smirk.
“Just help with the dishes.”